#100WCGU #155 – making

The prompt this week was ‘…read the instructions…’

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I’ve read the instructions – well, as much as I can because there are no words on them. It’s just pictures, to allow for this multicultural society in which we live, I guess.
I’ve matched the parts I had with the pictures on the paperwork, and tried to work out what they all were and where they should all go.
Despite that, it hasn’t worked. I’ve got a very wonky chest of drawers, with a drawer that doesn’t open and a couple of spare bits left over.
When did making up your own furniture become so complicated? I think I’ll buy it ready made next time!

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#100WCGU #154 – remember when?

The prompt this week was ‘remember’

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Remember when we were young and life was simple? When we had no worries other than someone finding out you’d crept into next doors’ garden to get the ball back?
And then we grew, got old. Had to learn to trust people on a different level. Was this job the right one for me? How about a house – shall I rent or buy? When did it all get so complicated?
And love. Our parents made it look easy – find someone, keep them for ever. How do you know who the right person is? Maybe they already passed through our life, and we missed them.

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#100WCGU #153 – street art

The prompt this week was a photograph:

He stood, head bowed, waiting for his cue. It was a chilly day despite the sunshine and he could feel his feet getting cold. Trying not to move a muscle, he wiggled his toes in his shoes, hidden deep beneath his cowl.
A child approached, and put some money in the box placed in front of him. To show his appreciation he bowed elaborately, making the most of the opportunity to have a stretch.
He returned slowly to his original position, head down, waiting for another tourist to drop some money to the human statue, willing the wait to be short.

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Starting on Green

90maz:

We would all do well to remember this

Originally posted on wordssetmefreee:

When my older son was in kindergarten (many years ago), his teacher, Mrs. Blaker, had a policy of starting the day on ‘green’. Every child who walked through the door received a green card. The first time a child did something to break a classroom rule (being disruptive, for instance), they received a yellow card. The second time they broke a rule, they received another yellow card. The third time, they received an orange card. The fourth time they received a red card.

A green card meant that the child was behaving well.

Yellow cards were simply reminders to please get back on track.

Orange card meant a talk with the teacher, which included a firm reminder.

Red card meant a talk with the principal.

The thing is, most kids never got an orange. The yellows were enough to get them back to behaving respectfully. Occasionally, if a child was…

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Cross stitch #3 day 11

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November 7, 2014 · 18:01

Cross stitch #3 day 10

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There is so much more to do. I might be done by Easter!

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Down

Well, it’s finally happened. I’ve been signed off work for a week and suspect that this is just the beginning.
Oh, it’s not a new thing, this depression that seems to overwhelm me about this time of year. Normally though, I’ve been able to work through it and shake it off. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been bad and scary but I’ve always come out the other side. While I was at uni I was kept busy by a range of friends and activities. In my first teaching job the science department was amazing and people went easy on you if you had an off week or two. I did let it get to me once. I handed in my notice and went travelling for three months! My next job, in a special school, meant I was never alone at any point and I had fantastic support staff who would keep things going. Above all, at both places, I had friends and when things got tough I could off load and solutions of a sort could be found.
And now. Now I’m struggling. I stepped down from my duties helping run an ice hockey team due to the increased pressures of my new job. That was one of my few pieces of sanity and something that was a good escape from work.  I don’t have any friends at my new place. Being aht means I feel that I need to remain professional. That means I have no one at work I can really talk to. My role changed this term due to other staff leaving and I don’t feel I’ve had any support with this.  I ask for support and guidance and get told that we have ‘reduced capacity’ and basically deal with it!
This past week the depression has come back with a vengeance. Worse than ever in fact. I’ve developed panic attacks. I nearly passed out while I was driving. I’m not eating. I’m horrible. Luckily I’m not brave enough to act on some of my thoughts. I can’t pull myself out of it this time. I’ve tried but it’s not working.
I’m not sure a week off is going to be enough :-(

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